


Beautiful, Terrible

by Agent_Scribe



Category: The Queen's Thief - Megan Whalen Turner
Genre: Gen, Just some dreams, just some angst, just some thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-24
Updated: 2020-10-24
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:27:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27173107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Agent_Scribe/pseuds/Agent_Scribe
Summary: he dreams....he dreams of her
Relationships: Attolia | Irene/Eugenides
Comments: 1
Kudos: 22





	Beautiful, Terrible

He dreams.  
_He dreams he dreams he dreams._  
He dreams of her.

 _You are more beautiful but she is more kind,_ he says, staring up at her, a prisoner in her court, a trespasser in her country. She sits so far above him, looking down. She raises an eyebrow.  
He is in a chair now, in a dark room, the roaring of a fire nearby. It is hot, it is so, so hot. He is a prisoner in her grasp, a trespasser in her palace, a criminal in her court. _Do not offend the gods do not offend the gods do not offend the gods_  
She is so far away, cold, solid, like granite, watching. Her eyes do not look away from his as it happens, as he screams and thrashes. He sees only her eyes, her beautiful, terrible, stone-cold eyes. He does not know that she looked away at the last second when it happened. He does not know she wished she could plug her ears and run from the room when he began screaming.

He does not know, and he is dreaming, dreaming, dreaming, of his beautiful terrible queen and he wakes with a shriek next to her, tangled in bed sheets, choking on sobs. She lays very still, waits for him to calm a bit, and then she oh so slowly turns toward him. “The dream again?” she asks, so softly, and watches the faint outline of his head move as he nods _yes_. She finds his hand in the sheets, frees it from the tangle, slides hers into it. He clutches it so tightly she feels her bones grind a little.  
It is small price to pay.

She holds his hand until his breathing smooths over, his grip relaxes, his body curls into the comfort of sleep once more.  
She holds his hand until the chirps of dawn birds rouse him, and he slides from her bed with a parting kiss. “My beautiful wife,” he says, with a wink, slipping away.  
She lays with her hand still partially curled to the shape of his, staring at the ceiling until a gentle knock signals the beginning of the morning’s affairs.

 _His wife._ How?


End file.
